The desert is living in May,
Sipping joyously priceless water.
You are modest and shy in the day,
But at night you're Cairo's daughter.
Thread of camels against the sun -
Their saffron shadows melt...
You ask the same question, to stay or to run,
Every night as you put on your belt.
Your cymbals are black from the sweat,
The veil doesn't cover your face.
You're worshiping every sunset
And knitting your dreams out of lace.
You dance, you don't care for rest;
You're proud, they are asking for more -
They look mesmerized at your chest
And throw the coins on the floor.
They're drunk and enjoying your thighs.
Since the prayers are done, what's the sin?
Still, you're searching a pair of eyes
That can see underneath your skin.